I told myself I was going to stop stalking through the links pointing to my Crypticon post because I was getting stressed out about it, but finding people quoting the passages I'm most proud of is pretty satisfying.

But I'm going to stop stalking now, for real, because it does stress me out.

Hello the Internet! I am very very tired; it took me a long time to get sleepy last night, for some reason. I had several vivid and somewhat cathartic dreams this morning, one about an animated movie being made about an Alaska Native girl that moved me to tears, and one in which I was talking about the idea of a website called Anchorpoint or Anchor Point (which is a town in Alaska -- I must be homesick). The general idea seemed to be a website where people could collect positive experiences and happy thoughts or pictures to revisit when their moods swung down.

I am generally feeling very positive about this summer in general, but it's been a weird, long, intensely busy week, with plenty of good personally but some real bad locally and the usual stressors globally.

To stay on a positive note, though, tomorrow I'm selling pies at a D-Day event, and then going to a live zom-rom-com, and then on Sunday is the FIVE-HOUR-LONG live adaptation of The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay at Book-It and I'm so freaking excited. I gotta track down that commentary about Captain America and K&C that was going around and read it before Sunday.

Woke up abruptly at 2:30AM to the sound of someone male moaning or calling out ("Uuuuhhh. ... Aauuuhhhh. ... AaAAAAahhh.") somewhere below my window. Couldn't tell if it was down on the ground or what; it sounded like it could almost be coming from the apartment directly below us.

He's stopped now, whoever he is. It only went on for a couple of minutes but it was extremely disconcerting.

It was a wonderful weekend hosting newredshoesand then tomorrow I'm hosting my parents, my sister, her partner/my boss, and a family friend for Christmas, which I am ... somewhat nervous about! But I'm sure it'll be fine. I'm putting the finishing touches on presents, we're settling in to watch Leverage, and I have bright lights. Maybe some highly boozey cider courtesy of Emmy.

My coworker called me last night to say that the forecast was for snow and to say that I get to make the call about whether or not to take the truck out, and my call is NOPE. Nononono. N o p e. Even that much snow spells bad news for a several-ton truck that brakes slowly in the best of weather and has no studded tires. I already emailed my bosses to let them know that, assuming it doesn't miraculously melt by 9AM, I won't be going out today.

Well, I'll probably go down to the used furniture store to pick up a card table and a lamp or two for the living room, and maybe go pick up an extension cord or two, but the less driving I'm doing today, the better. In the meantime, I get to lie here and watch my streets fill up with snow and smell it falling -- something I haven't experienced in over a year.

A tangent on the VMAs, or, a healthy dose of feminist rage for a Monday morning. A friend on Facebook -- a guy I've always liked -- called Ms. Cyrus a "cheap stripper" last night and I regretted not calling him out immediately, so I made it a full blog post.

So I go out for a run at about 8, when it's starting to cool down, and as I'm going along I see this old guy sitting on the sidewalk across the street from me, kinda holding onto his ankle, and I'm like "That doesn't look good."

So I just read that thing going around about the Bystander Effect, so I decided to go over and see what was up. And indeed, he was not okay! He said he had middle and inner ear infections in both ears that had just destroyed his equilibrium, and a bike had come by and freaked him out and he'd lost his balance. He didn't want me to call 911, and he said he lived alone, so I figured I'd stick around for a while until he felt better and then help him get home.

While sitting there talking to him I learn the following amazing facts:

1. His name is Tenney, short for Tennyson, as in Lord Alfred. He claims he's related.2. He used to live in Hawaii on Oahu and has a thorough knowledge of Hawaiian history which he was happy to tell me about at some length.3. He taught "spiritual mental training" while in Hawaii.

So I'm sitting there talking to Tenney, and another young lady comes by and stops to see what's going on. Turns out she's a nurse -- THANK GOD. She and I try and get Tenney up to his feet, with no luck. A minute later a young man stops, steals a chair from a nearby driveway, and gets Tenney in a bear hug as we try to get him up on his feet and into the chair. WAY not happening -- Tenney starts groaning and he's basically dead weight, so we get him back down onto his knees. So at this pointI've got one arm around Tenney to support him, and this poor young man has Tenney basically in a bear-hug to keep him upright.

Nurse: How old are you, Tenney? 65? 70?Tenney: 70.Young guy: You don't look a day over 27.Tenney: Well, at least you're a good liar.Young guy: Hey man, I'm just trying to get laid.Tenney: Me too, me too.The nurse and I notice that the young guy is kinda straining holding Tenney up, so we ask if he's okay. "No," he says, "but not because of this. I'm having a bad day."

Tenney says, "Tell us about your day."

Young guy's face crumples up and he says, "I'm in love with a boy who I don't think can love me back."

HEARTBREAKING AND ALSO KIND OF REALLY HILARIOUS because suddenly both of us women are going "ooooh noooo honey we're so sorry" and TENNEY is patting this guy on the chest while hanging in his arms, going "One-sided things are no good for anyone."

The story peters out after that: the nurse called the EMTs over Tenney's objections, and they came and decided to take him to the ER, over his objections, and I went home, telling this story to my parents on the phone along the way because it had gotten actually dark.

At least I got a free vanilla latte because the baristas messed up someone else's order. And I have Indian food and yet more beer waiting for me at home when I eventually figure all this stupid shit out.

The walls of this apartment building don't block sound very well. My roommates get to hear our downstairs neighbor having loud sex on a regular basis. I have only thought I heard this once, and I'm still half-convinced I dreamed it.

I, however, sleeping next to the window that faces the street, do get to sit bolt upright in bed at 1AM on a Friday night because I hear angry male voices out there, and watch as a guy literally chases another guy down the middle of the street, yelling. I couldn't understand most of what was being yelled, but it looked intensely aggressive, and I was legitimately afraid I was going to see someone get beaten up.

Which is why I sit bolt upright in bed at 1AM on Friday and Saturday nights when I hear raised voices in the street, whether they're talking about being too drunk to drive or yelling angrily at each other about "Just try it, man!": I may not be able to actually help from my third-floor apartment, but I will watch, and I hope that if it ever becomes necessary, I'll be brave enough to call the cops.

I was standing at the bus stop reading and this guy came up to sell me one of his lovely handmade pendants, and they were really nice and I don't mind giving money to people who are providing something like art or music, you know? And he seeemed pleasant! So he suggested $12, which seemed totally fair and I thought I had a $20 -- I dug through my bag and my pockets and could only come up with five ones. Which he grabbed out of my hand. And he got all resentful-faced and muttered that if I see him around maybe I could give him the rest and stalked off.

And I kind of feel terrible! It's really a nice pendant! I want to pay him for his work! I would have given him back the pendant and bought it from him another time, like I would with any other vendor, but he fucking grabbed money out of my hand and freaked me out more than a little. So I'm going to get myself a $10 and label it CARL and see if I see him again. No random street artist is going to think I'm an ungrateful bitch!

I spent mmmmmost of today playing Arkham City, after doing some work* this morning and taking a break to watch the debate in the evening.

I regret nothing~

Well, not entirely true, my eyes are a little fried from staring at screens all day. Tomorrow I will do non-screen things like laundry and cooking.

*DID I MENTION I AM EMPLOYED. Freelance not-even-part-time employed, but employed and doing something I am actually interested in and enthusiastic about! A family friend, who's "a noted molecular physicist" according to her website's bio, is composing and producing a ballet adaptation of Dante's Inferno, and has hired me to do website and Kickstarter design. The conversation about getting paid was great, because I said cheerfully, "This is so cool, I'd do it for free!" and she responded with "What? I'm sorry, what? You're not doing it for free." Thank you, Glenna, for saving me from myself.